A Taste of Justice
by idiosyncraticWordsmith
Summary: Neophyte Redglare and the Marquis Mindfang face off in an Alternian trial of justice. But a paragon of the law and a renegade devoted to crime have much to hate each other for... could this prove a complication?


A Taste of Justice

 _By the Idiosyncratic Wordsmith_

The room was dark, save only the light from the fire in the pit on the far side. Cobblestone, dark as coal, turned red like rubies in the harsh crimson lighting. It was an auditorium, with stadium-esque seats on either side of a long aisle leading up to a gallows in front of the fiery pit. The seats were filled with spectators, who roared and cheered loudly. This was a trial they were intent on paying attention to, for a few reasons.

First, the defendant was a renowned pirate lord who had been a scourge on the open sea for years. The Marquis as hated by many, and indeed, many of the spectators would love to hate her - she was something of a celebrity black heart-throb. Murderous, deceitful, violent, cruel, arrogant - and yet so confident and so skillful.

Second, the prosecutor was a neophyte among the legislacerators who was said to have immense promise and potential. A capable lawyer, a competent huntress, and a talented fighter. Giving her the case to prosecute the Marquis was an interesting choice on the part of the Grand Highblood, and the crowds were excited to see if the neophyte that brought the Marquis in for justice would be able to deliver it.

Third - and this was only a rumor, but the common crowds ate up rumors like grub sauce - the two parties allegedly had caliginous feelings for one another and may or may not be engaged in a hate affair. Such an affair between a neophyte and a criminal would be scandal enough, but if they _were_ in a quadrant, pitting them to the death was an especially cruel affair. And nothing made trolls happier than the cruelest affairs (at least when they weren't happening to them).

The Neophyte, Redglare, was just finishing calibrating the gallows on the far end of the room when the door was opened. The silhouette of the injured Mindfang, with her amputated arm, appeared. It seemed she made use of her psychic powers to secure her old outfit and hat, though she had the now pointless sleeve removed coarsely, leaving an unappealing bundle of torn fabric surrounding her gored shoulder. Even from across the room, Redglare could see the wide smirk on the Marquis' face. She was prepared for combat, whatever the outcome. Redglare glared behind her red glasses. She couldn't abide by that woman. Such lawlessness, such disregard for order, such self-assurance…

She shook the thoughts off. It was time for the trial to begin.

"Do you see these gallows, Mindfang?" Redglare called out, pointing to the noose waiting behind her. "You'll hang by them by the end of the night."

Mindfang walked down the aisle towards Redglare, her smirk remaining bright and cocky as always.

"One of us will, I suppose." Was her only response before drawing her blade. Redglare answered by unsheathing her own sword, and steeled herself for the fight.

The two eyed each other as the crowds roared. Redglare waited for an opening, knowing the Marquis would expect her to charge with the impression her disability would weigh her down. But Redglare knew better - losing an arm made Mindfang no less deadly.

Of course, Mindfang expected Redglare to know better, and used her hesitation to her advantage, charging while Redglare wasted time looking for an opening that would never present itself. Striking fast and fierce, Mindfang's blade clanged against metal, as Redglare blocked and parried. Even when she was distracted with her silly analyzing and over-thinking, she could still put up a fight. Impressive, Mindfang thought. It was such a shame she had to kill her.

Mindfang continued her assault, knocking Redglare further and further back. She was fast enough to block, but not fast enough to counter. A sweat even broke out on Redglare's forehead, a single bead moving its way slowly down. Mindfang chuckled at the Neophyte's defense. It was impressive, to be sure, but insufficient.

Finally, they were at the end of the aisle, directly in front of the gallows, the noose awaiting them patiently. The crowds roared. They were ready for blood, and they had a feeling they knew which shade of blue it would be. A few more swipes, and that would be that for the "trial".

Suddenly, however, Redglare broke the clash, and lept backwards, back behind the noose. Mindfang stood dumbfounded for a moment, wondering what that move could possibly accomplish. The crowds began quieting, confused as well. Redglare paused only for a moment, her glasses glinting in the light of the fire as the bead of sweat on her forehead finally dropped downward onto her cheek, and she rushed forward. Mindfang rose her sword to parry, but found that the attack came from a different direction. In fact, it came from a different weapon.

It came in the form of a quick hate-snog on the lips.

The crowds roared in laughter and revelry - this was it, then, the Neophyte and the Marquis _were_ kismeses. The kiss only lasted perhaps two or three seconds. Mindfang blushed for once - she and the Neophyte had exchanged their hatred before, but she thought that the Neophyte had decided to turn her back on the affair in the name of duty. Was she turning her back on the law?

 _No, of course not_ , she realized, a fraction of a moment too late. She was just playing dirty.

Before Mindfang registered what was happening, the Neophyte had already pulled her own blade back and sunk it into the Marquis' gut. Mindfang gasped - this was not a wound she could recover from. With Redglare's head right next to her's, she could smell the scent that the Neophyte carried - the scent she had associated with the purest hatred she had since Dualscar had lost her attentions. The scent made her pierced guts wrench with disgust. Truly this would've been her destined kismesis. And, she supposed, in a way… she was.

Withdrawing her blade from the Marquis' body, Redglare gripped the stunned and fatally wounded cerulean blood by the shoulders and shoved her back over to the noose. The crowd, for once, was stunned into silence as the Neophyte shoved her kismesis' head into the opening, and kicked the only barely lucid body off to hang. The Marquis struggled, but resigned herself to her fate, glaring one last time at the Neophyte, who watched with a detached, cold, neutral stare. Refusing to lose the last laugh, Mindfang flashed one final smirk at the Neophyte's cheap shot.

"I hate you… so much…" Were the Marquis Spinneret Mindfang's final, laborious words. Redglare maintained her composure as she watched the body grow coldly still and heard the crowds begin to roar again, louder than over, covering her own final words to her kismesis.

"I hated you too." Was all she mumbled, before turning away and walking back down the aisle to the exit, not bothering to clean off her sword. She tuned out the raging crowd, focusing only on keeping her composure, on at least making it to her quarters before she let the tears fall. She was a legislacerator now. She had more important business that her own romantic pains.

She had brought Alternia's greatest criminal to her knees. Undoubtedly she would be rewarded handsomely. Money. Power. Station. Slaves, if she were partial to them. She had fulfilled her goal and become a true legislacerator, a true dispenser of Her Imperious Condescension's royal law. She was a role model for future seekers of justice and order. She was to be etched into the very fabric of Alternian history as the very image of justice itself.

But at the same time… she had gotten a taste of that justice, on the lips of her kismesis.

It tasted bitter like hate and rotten like a corpse.


End file.
